


Catfishing

by melissmallfic



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 07:55:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3201440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melissmallfic/pseuds/melissmallfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night of 5x02. Ian isn't done with scamming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catfishing

By now Mickey was pretty used to waking up in the middle of the night to the glow of the computer screen and the sound of quiet typing from across the room. Nine times out of ten, he'd clear his throat irritably and Ian would whisper, "Sorry," and hustle back into bed. As soon as Ian's arms were wrapped around him, Mickey would be out cold again. Granted, when he woke up Ian was rarely still where he left him, but he tried to believe that his boyfriend had gotten at least a few hours of sleep.

There were, however, those rare times that no matter what Mickey said, Ian would insist he was in the middle of something and tell Mickey to go back to sleep. The first time it happened, Mickey had managed to convince Ian to join him by giving him some particularly enthusiastic head, but that hadn't worked again. 

Tonight when Mickey woke up he truly couldn't believe Gallagher was awake. The stress of the day had hit Mickey like a truck as soon as Ian's odd army buddies had left. All their scheming, the fear of something going wrong with Mandy and the creepy pastor, and Ian's scary intensity all combined to make Mickey feel like he'd been on the verge of drowning. Once it was all over, it felt like the water receded, and he'd barely gotten undressed before he was unconscious. 

But Ian seemed entirely unaffected. Mickey really shouldn't surprised. He knew Mandy was right that Ian was sick, or at least that something was very, very wrong. But the thought of turning Ian's well-being over to Fiona, and, therefore, over to some shrinks, made Mickey uneasy. He didn't trust shrinks, and certainly not the charity care-level assholes they'd be forced to use. The way Ian was acting, he'd end up in some nightmare halfway-house, worse off than he was now. Mickey just needed more time to figure out a better solution, or for Ian to just snap out of it.

It didn't seem like the kind of night that would have Ian scurrying back into bed, so Mickey sighed and tossed the sheet off the bed, standing up. He gently touched Ian on the shoulder, trying not to startle him. Even though Ian was too wrapped up in whatever he was doing to hear Mickey coming, his reflexes were still startlingly fast. His hand circled Mickey's wrist in an iron grip before Mickey could even blink.

"Fuck, Gallagher!" Mickey cried, trying to wrench his hand back. Ian just squeezed him tighter, staring into space to the right of Mickey's head. Mickey feared for a moment that Ian was going to break his wrist, and the pain was so intense he felt tears flood his eyes. Using his other hand, Mickey tried to pull on Ian's fingers to loosen them. "Ian, it's me" he said, his voice cracking with pain.

That seemed to break Ian out of whatever trance he was in. His eyes connected with Mickey's and softened immediately, and his hand released Mickey's wrist. Mickey pulled his hand into his chest, cradling it with his other hand. Ian's hand followed, but Mickey slapped it when Ian tried to touch him.

"Fuck you, man, don't touch me," he spat. Ian looked devastated and tentatively put his hand on Mickey's elbow. Mickey allowed it, but was ready to react if Ian tried to grab him again. He'd punch him in the fucking throat if he had to.

"I'm so sorry, Mick," Ian said. "You surprised me, I didn't know it was you."

Mickey's eyebrows shot up. "Who the fuck else would it be at three in the morning?" He held his aching wrist out to inspect the damage. There was already a red mark forming like a bracelet. He shoved it as close to Ian's face as possible without touching him. "You almost broke my fucking wrist, asshole. What's wrong with you?"

Ian's eyes narrowed and he pushed Mickey's arm away, careful not to get too close to his hand. "Fuck you. Don't sneak up on me." 

Mickey's mouth dropped open. Ian was pissed at _him_? In the back of his mind went another tick in the ledger of things that were not right about Ian. The normal Ian, or, the  _old_ Ian would have felt terrible about hurting Mickey. He probably would've tried to do something gay like kiss it better. But this Ian was edgy, harder to read, and, most importantly, not so quick to accept responsibility for things that were his doing. Sometimes Ian reminded Mickey of himself, but it was a version of himself that he was gradually leaving behind. Somehow it made this new personality Ian had adopted more irritating, like they should have both outgrown this type of behavior, but only Mickey had gotten the memo.

Ian had gone back to typing, and even that sounded frantic and too fast for normal fingers. Mickey crossed his arms, wincing when he bent his wrist too far. He should really go out to the kitchen and get some ice. 

"What are you doing anyway?" He leaned down over Ian's shoulder and saw that Ian was on Facebook. He had a couple of chat windows open and was bouncing from conversation to conversation. Mickey could hardly read one message before Ian was on to another. The words he was reading didn't really make sense, they were too out of context. Mickey scanned up the rest of the screen and didn't see anything out of the ordinary on the News Feed. Until the upper right corner of the screen caught his eye. Where it should have said "Ian Gallagher," instead it said "Curt Wallace."

"Who's Curt Wallace?" Mickey asked. He had a creepy feeling that he wasn't going to like the answer.

Ian spun around, grinning. Lately Mickey felt like Ian was starting to resemble the Joker when he did that. There was sometimes something missing behind his eyes. And his skin seemed stretch so tight lately. It wasn't always, but it was starting to last for longer periods of time. It was getting harder to deny that it really fucking scared him.

"I am," Ian said. He turned back to the screen and clicked on the name, taking them to a profile page. The profile photo was of Ian, but it was a picture Mickey had never seen before. It was black and white and from the angle it was taken, Ian was barely recognizable. He looked strung out, mouth hanging open in what a casual observer might call a sexy pose. But to Mickey it was just disturbing. He knew what sexy Ian looked like, and this wasn't it.

Ian scrolled further down the page and Mickey saw all sorts of posts on his wall. Some were from Curt, quotes and song lyrics, but many more were from strange men. The gist of most of them was the same. Curt was so hot, Curt was such a bad boy, there were so many things they would love to do with Curt. It made Mickey's chest tighten. Was Ian cheating on him? And showing him the evidence as if it was nothing?

"I'm catfishing them," Ian said, noticing Mickey's confusion. 

"You're  _what_?" Mickey said, mind still spiraling about the possibility that Ian was sleeping with all of these other guys. There were so many, how could he even find the time?

"Catfish, like that show on MTV. Remember? Those two guys travel all over the country, helping people in online relationships meet each other?" Mickey felt the tiniest bit of a memory, but it wasn't enough to make this make sense. "Usually the one person isn't who they say they are. And the hosts help them come clean about why they lied."

"What the fuck does that have to do with fish?"

Ian laughed. "Uh, I don't know, it's just the name. But after we watched it last time it got me thinking. Most of these people doing it, they're just doing it for themselves. And they're  _stupid_ about it. If you were smart, you could do it right, and you could help people."

Mickey shook his head. He was so tired and he was slowly coming off the idea that Ian was stepping out on him, but not fast enough. "I'm not following you."

"A couple weeks ago I found this chatroom of people who think they're being cheated on, but they can't prove it. I felt so  _sorry_ for them. I wished I could do something. And then I thought, duh, of course I can! I can't prove that they're cheating with someone else, but I can see if they'll do it with  _me_. And then those people can stop worrying because they'll know. They'll have proof.  _Closure_."

Ian smiled like that all made sense, but Mickey just felt his forehead crease further. Ian had turned himself into some sort of infidelity vigilante for what? Just to help out some strangers? And in his spare time in the middle of the night, when he should be asleep? Jesus, Mickey was in so far over his head with this shit. He didn't even know how to respond to this level of crazy.

Before he could reply, Ian clapped his hands together, making Mickey jump. "I forgot the best part! I'm getting  _paid_!"

"You're what?"

"Yeah, it didn't start out that way. But now I'm, like, a service or something. I keep getting recommendations, new leads. And people just send me cash, right through PayPal. It's so fucking easy, Mickey."

Mickey was floored. Ian had turned his crazy into a fucking business, all while Mickey slept. Mickey closed his eyes and shook his head. "I don't know what to say."

When he opened his eyes, Ian was frowning and scanning Mickey's face in a way that made him feel uncomfortable. He looked like he didn't recognize Mickey. "What do you mean? I thought you'd be happy. I was able to buy Yev some diapers that weren't from the fucking dollar store. I helped Fiona pay the electric bill. This is a good thing, Mick. What's not to get?"

His last sentence was practically ground out of his clenched jaw and Mickey knew he wasn't getting anywhere with this tonight. He needed to find a way to diffuse the situation, just get Ian to come to bed. For the second time that day, he knew he needed to placate Ian just to calm him down, even though he hated to do it. Even though he suspected that every time he did it, he was just making things worse.

"You're right, that's pretty cool. I didn't think about how much we could use that money, I guess," he said, trying to sound casual. Ian regarded him suspiciously. Mickey put a hand on Ian's shoulder and saw how the mark on his wrist had darkened even more. It would start turning colors in a day or two. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so quick to shit on your idea. I'm just tired." Mickey tried to look sorry, and he knew he didn't need to put any effort into looking tired. He was exhausted. And despite not needing to sleep to keep up his energy, the lack of it was clearly having a physical effect on Ian, too. Dark circles were forming under his eyes, and his face looked drawn and pale, made more obvious in the computer's glow.

Ian's expression softened and he brought a hand up to Mickey's waist and squeezed gently. "I'm sorry I woke you up. I was trying to be quiet." Mickey nodded. He slid his hand from Ian's shoulder to the back of his neck, brushing his fingertips in the edge of Ian's hairline. 

"Come back to bed with me?" he said, surprised at how husky his own voice sounded. The heat of Ian's hand on him was doing what it always did. It was one of the things that kept Mickey from accepting the situation at hand. He needed Ian in so many ways, and he always wanted him.

Ian's other hand snaked around to Mickey's lower back, pulling Mickey in between his knees. The hand holding Mickey's waist released and palmed Mickey's crotch firmly. Mickey felt his breathing speed up and his cock immediately start to fill. 

"C'mere," Ian said, and Mickey leaned down obediently, pressing their lips together. When Mickey opened his mouth to let Ian's tongue in, Ian's hand pushed against him, making Mickey moan. They stayed that way for a few minutes, their kissing hot and wet, Mickey bent over Ian, and Ian stroking him through his boxers. The pressure was good, but the barrier of cloth between them was keeping Mickey on edge, the contact not enough. He pulled back and took in Ian's face, his eyes wide, his lips dark and wet, his chest heaving. Mickey could see his impressive bulge and suddenly all he wanted was to just be  _on_ him.

Mickey quickly pulled his own boxers off and grunted, motioning for Ian to remove his, too. Ian lifted up his ass and shimmied the boxers down, kicking them off with one foot. Ignoring Ian's cry of protest, Mickey crossed the room to grab the plastic bottle of lube from their bedside table. Once back in front of Ian, he handed it to his boyfriend and straddled his lap. Ian leaned back and the old, wooden chair creaked in a way that made Mickey panic for a second. But the creaking stopped once Ian settled, and Mickey concentrated on lining their crotches up perfectly and grinding down. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the side of Ian's neck and heard Ian gasp. Then he heard the cap on the lube pop open. Ian's arms circled behind his back, likely Ian slicking up his fingers. 

Mickey leaned back to kiss Ian, still moving his hips in steady circles. Ian thrust his tongue into Mickey's mouth at the same time he slipped a slick finger inside him. Mickey thought he would stop breathing, it felt so fucking good. He gasped into Ian's mouth, trying to keep moving while Ian tried to unravel him with his long fingers. He added another finger and Mickey thrust against him involuntarily, sending the chair backwards a few inches. They both laughed and Ian said, "Easy," in such a devastatingly sexy tone, Mickey felt his dick twitch.

"Fuck, Gallagher, talk to me," he panted. 

Ian kissed him hard instead, biting Mickey's lower lip. They continued to rut against each other, smearing pre-cum all over their stomachs, Mickey practically bouncing back on Ian's fingers in his ass. He didn't have the brain cells left to remember how he'd ended up here in the first place. His brain was completely overridden with thoughts of Ian, of Ian inside him.

"You ready for me to fuck you?" Ian whispered into his ear. The sensation of his hot breath and the sound of his voice combined to make Mickey feel like he was going haywire.

He didn't know how he was even able to answer but he did. "Yes, please. God, fuck me," he begged, slamming back against Ian's hand. It felt so good, but it wasn't enough. 

Ian pulled his hand out and grabbed the lube off the desk. He maneuvered Mickey's hand so it was palm up, then drizzled a generous pour onto his fingers. "You have to get me wet first, Mick."

Mickey eagerly wrapped his hand around Ian's erection. He felt his tongue snake out of his mouth, licking his lower lip over and over again like he was starving and eyeing an outrageous dessert. He wished he'd thought to suck Ian off a little before he'd started lubing him up. But in no time Ian was good and slick, and he removed Mickey's hand. Grabbing Mickey by the hips, Ian lifted him up. Mickey reached behind himself to help line Ian up just right. When he sank down onto Ian, he couldn't control the loud moan that came out of him. His head fell back, feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds. He felt like he could sit right there forever, Ian filling him up, and he'd be happy. If only they could just always be like this together.

When Ian started moving Mickey knew he wouldn't last long. He struggled to lift his head and look at Ian's face. Gone was the scary Ian from earlier. His boyfriend, with the teasing smirk, and the smiling eyes, was back. He kissed him, bringing his hands to the back of the chair behind Ian, planting his feet firmly on the floor meet Ian's thrusts. Ian let him stay that way for a few minutes before he put one hand on the small of Mickey's back and with the other pushed his shoulder until Mickey was off-balance. The new angle was devastating, Mickey had no traction, but Ian was totally in control. All Mickey could do was hold onto Ian's biceps and enjoy the ride.

"Touch yourself," Ian demanded, and Mickey immediately complied. Keeping one hand on Ian, he used the other to start jerking himself off. "Fuck, you're so hot," Ian groaned. "I want to see you come, Mick."

Mickey was panting now and felt like he was covered in sweat. He moved his hand faster and groaned when Ian thrust up hard into him. With almost no warning, Mickey was coming, and all he could do was say, "Fuck" over and over again. Ian pulled him close and started kissing him again. Mickey was breathless, shaking, and opened his eyes to see Ian staring at him. As soon as their eyes connected Ian's face screwed up and he pushed into Mickey one last time and held him there.

Ian buried his face in Mickey's neck as he came, his mouth open and wet against Mickey's skin. Mickey brought his hand up to the back of Ian's neck, rubbing him. They stilled after a bit, and it took a few minutes for both of their breathing to settle. Mickey felt Ian slip out of him and he grunted, gradually all the sensations coming back to him. He was sweaty, his lower back felt like it had been tweaked, and his wrist ached. He got up off of Ian and his thighs burned. But when he looked down at Ian, he couldn't help but smile. Ian looked fucking satisfied for once, and sleepy. Mickey held out his hand out and Ian took it.

"Come on, let's go to bed."

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking about the plan Ian and Mickey made in episode 5x02 and wondering what else Ian might try to do in that vein. I'm kind of addicted to Catfish, and the idea popped into my head and stuck. It got way dirty there at the end, which took me by surprise!
> 
> Find me on tumblr at onlysmallfic.tumblr.com. Taking prompts, but kind of don't have the hang of filling them yet! :)


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